Thursday, January 8, 2015

Yeh mon, this is Jamaica mon!

Striking red hibiscus on flower-covered Jamaica 
Once again, we were fortunate to have booked an excellent private guide. Levy was polite and professional and gave us another excellent day of sightseeing. We decided to skip the famous Dunn’s River Falls to visit the lesser-known “Blue Hole” instead.  What an adventure the Blue Hole turned out to be!

On the way to the Blue Hole




The Blue Hole has only recently been open to the public, and the unpaved entrance road prevents the big tour buses from making the trip.  To be honest, we were a bit nervous as Levy drove us up a mountain and deep into the jungle, down roads full of major ruts that got worse at every turn. The roads were so bad, Levy had to just creep along at 5 mph (maybe). However, we soon pulled into a parking lot of sorts and met our Blue Hole guide Alex.

The Blue Hole -- a jungle paradise
The Blue Hole is a secluded woodland swimming hole with a series of pools fed by tributaries and waterfalls cascading down a mountain side.  With only about a dozen other tourists, it felt like a hidden paradise where the likes of Heddy Lamar’s character Tondelayo would swim scantily-clothed in the cool waters beneath the jungle canopy.  Alex was one of several young kids helping visitors to experience the falls, and he certainly took good care of us. Alex was also a born jumper/diver, and he loved making crazy leaps into the deep pools of the Blue Hole.



Alex makes a dramatic leap
into the Blue Hole
As we were admiring the lowest pool of water a good distance below us, Alex suddenly said, “I am going to jump.” He got a good running start and did a magnificent cannonball dive into the middle of the pool. Wow!  There was a time, maybe 50 years ago, when we could perform these same antics too!

Preparing to brave the Blue Hole











Now it was our turn for some fun as Alex led us old farts gingerly to an upper pool with a small (but powerful!) waterfall.  He positioned us so that we would get a “water massage” as the falls were pummeling our naked backs. What we got was a near drowning!  We couldn’t believe how that water poured over us.  Anne couldn’t stop screaming, but even she had to admit, it was exhilarating.



Getting a royal Blue Hole massage

And you thought water boarding was bad...


Frank swims the Blue Hole after his dive
Not to be outdone by these young energetic punks, Frank climbed to a diving ledge up above where we swam, and did a leap of his own into the upper pool.  Even Alex was impressed (or so Frank likes to think LOL).  As we were walking down from the upper falls, Alex and a buddy of his started DANCING up and down the slippery rocks which defined the powerful waterfall. These young guys are so limber and totally fearless.

Alex leaping off the waterfall


Alex did one more jump and then literally ran back UP the waterfall to rejoin us.  The time it took for Alex to get himself right back up the rocks that made up the falls was less than a minute; it would have taken us old farts an estimated ½-to-1 full day to make the same climb, assuming we had some serious climbing equipment (ropes, carabineers, grappling hooks, and lots of assistance).   It was worth the trip just to watch Alex and his youthful antics!

Alex, our amazing Blue Hole guide




The Blue Hole was one of the most thrilling adventures we’ve had in a while, and we were both glad we pushed the envelope a bit to fully enjoy it.

Typical colorful but dilapidated island building












Levy gave us a ride around the colorful island, pointing out fancy resorts, gorgeous beaches, and even Mick Jagger’s house (not a bad “little” place).

Chef Germaine prepares his famous jerk chicken





Eventually we ended up at the restaurant called “Scotchies” for some of their legendary jerk chicken.  Their spicy chicken was delicious (and the indigenous Red Stripe beer wasn’t bad either).  We chowed down in a gorgeous garden surrounded by tropical flowers. Hard to imagine living in a place where this floral display blooms all year round.

Frank tries the local Red Stripe beer


Levy also gave a crash course in talking like a Jamaican. English is the official language here since Jamaica used to be a British colony; however, the locals have developed their own “patois,” a creole-influenced English that sounded like slurred English or maybe “shorthand English” to us.  Levy got a big kick out of teaching Anne to say the Jamaican phrase “Wah gwan mon?” (what’s going on man).  Best if said with hands on hips and LOTS of attitude!





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